


Bad Company

by nickisgirl



Category: Supernatural, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairing, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Flirting, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Slash, One Night Stands, Sexual Content, Theft, cursed artifact, hunting things, saving people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickisgirl/pseuds/nickisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case of a portrait with an evil identity attached to it, brings the Winchester brothers back to New York City. At first, they have no clue who stole it from a rich man's home (of which the person who owns the portrait is a member of the family that the picture is of and had no clue there was something evil about it, something that is ancient and deadly), until Dean meets the charming and cunning Neal Caffrey in a bar. When the evil spirit shows up in Neal's apartment, putting him in great risk of danger, the brothers races in to save him. While Sam distracts the spirit, Dean finishes the job by burning the bones. Afterwards, Dean stays behind with Neal while Sam heads to the hotel to sleep. This leads to something that Dean or Neal would never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smooth Criminal

**Author's Note:**

> Sets in season 2 of White Collar and season 6 of Supernatural (after Sam got his soul back). This is actually based off of an edit my friend Oksana did. I thought it'd be cool to write a fan fic around it and so here you go :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets a smart and charming con-man in a bar in New York City, just after a heist took place in a rich home of a cursed painting. Unknownest to Dean, the con man he's having a conversation with, so happened to be Neal Caffrey who was behind it. Some flirting had taken place (though it was all part of Neal's way to charm him only to get what he needed). Unknownest to Dean, Neal also had stolen Dean's keys to his beloved Impala which Neal is revealed to also have stolen the Impala.

Dean grumbled to himself as he entered a swank bar with red curtains and neon lights greeting him before he was to enter the building. There were tall lamps and a sleek bar waiting for him with smaller lamps on the tables. To heck what kind it was, he wanted to get something to drink. There was a report that a painting was stolen from someone's swanky and luxurious townhome in the Upper West Side. And yet, both he and Sam got stuck. All they know was that the painting wasn't a regular kind of painting. It was cursed, and whoever has it would be really really in big trouble because it has along with a very ticked off spirit. He wondered if the spirit had emerged from it. It is rumored that a witch had cursed her younger sister into the painting and is forever banished there while her body would be creamated. He wondered if it was true and that's why he was here to relax while Sam, who is very good at it, decided to look it up. He'll contact him when he's ready. He walked past a man wearing a black fedora, jacket, dark gray open collar shirt, and black pants along with black dress shoes and a tracking anklet on his left ankle (Dean wouldn't even dare asking. He was too busy getting himself a drink). He looked to his left at the man only to study him for a bit before going, "packed bar, huh?" The man beside him nods his head. Dean stuck his hand out. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."  
The man shook his hand. "Neal," he replied, "Neal Caffrey. Very packed," he said as he looked around him and then quickly back to Dean, like he wanted to not be able to look at that!  
"You wouldn't know anything about the heist that happened yesterday in the Upper West Side, would you?" Neal shook his head. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. If I did, I'd tell you. Are you a cop?" Neal asked. He sized Dean from his feet up to his face. 

"No, not really." Well, it's actually a truth though he actually does pose as a FBI Agent. "Actually, I pose as one." This has Neal intriqued. He leaned forward until he was close to Dean's face. From the hunter's perspective, Neal's eyes were now more beautiful than ever up close. Not to mention, he smells good. He mentally kicked himself for thinking those things and shifts a little bit in his chair. "Uh, dude? No offense but there's something called personal space." Neal smiled, a flash of pearly white teeth and raised his hands in surrender then sat back. "Thanks."

"Back to your statement that you pose as a FBI agent? Seems you and I have something in common."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "You pose as one too?"

"Well, once. I had to do a case with the fed I work with where I had to trick the victim thinking I was him, while he had to be me. It was actually kind of fun though I wouldn't imagine being one."

"I don't know, man. You got the lack of personal space thing down pat and cops do that all the time." Neal laughed. Even his laugh had Dean be intriqued and actually LOVE hearing. He had to laugh also because it was actually pretty funny. Then, Neal shifted in his stool until he was facing towards Dean totally, and brushed his leg against Dean's, On purpose. Dean glanced down at Neal's leg after he did so (which it remained touching Dean's own) and before he was to comment, something caught his eye. On the left ankle was a black device with a bright light on the left. He slowly moved his eyes up towards Neal's face from the legs, to the midsection (a nice sculptured figure hidden away by sophisticated clothes) to his sculpted features-blue eyes, a cleft chin, perfectly shaped mouth, a slender nose, and dark brown hair, half hidden away by the fedora. He had to blink to try to get him not to think those thoughts and then grunted a little bit. He'd bet Neal thought his gruffy voice was sexy, because in some ways, he finds Neal's is. What is he doing? But, Neal caught onto the grunt and then reaches over, clasping his hand on Dean's leg then up to his hip and then towards the left pocket of where the keys were located (after all, a con artist would know where to find the goodies to steal). Afterwards, he set his hand onto his own knee. "What's the device on your ankle for?" he now asked, finally breaking the ice and also to divert his attention from what he was doing with the flirting. Or was it? He wasn't sure. But it must have been his drink that he must have been seeing things.

"This?" Neal asked, lifting his leg and had it in a straight line and pointed towards the anklet. Dean nods. Neal sets his foot back down and then clasped both hands onto his glass. "It's a CPS Tracking monitor. It's part of the arrangement I have. For five years I would have to wear this wonderful little device and help the FBI crack down white collar cases that I would be familiar with because of my past as a con artist."

"Trust me, I've dealt with one in the past. Hell, I'm a bit of a con artist myself. But there has been a bitch that we knew that was worse than of me and perhaps you. Her name was Bela Talbot. Have you known of her? In your circle of work?"

Neal shook his head. "No, not I know of. The only one I would know aside from my accomplance Mozzie, is Alex Hunter and Matthew Kellar. Other than that, no. No Bela Talbot. I'd love to meet her though."

"You'd have no luck in that. She died a few years back. Sorry, man."

A disappointed look flashes across Neal's face. However, he was glad to have heard that. Why should he when he knows a few? Even someone who he detests (Kellar). And, he gets to know this one too. He seems very interesting. Deep inside, he felt bad of taking the keys but hey, he does this a lot even behind Peter's back. You can't tame a con artist. Besides, he'd find a way to give it back. After all, Peter would find out and then he has to. "That's a shame. Well, it was nice to meet you, Dean, but I must go. Got work in the morning." He stood up from the stool and gave him a light wink. "We should do this another time."

Dean nods his head to the statement (or was it to the wink? He wasn't sure but he sure as heck nodded). He actually feels a bit connected to this man and would like to meet up with him again, no doubt about it. "I'd like that. See you later."

"You too, Dean." With that, Neal leaves. Dean went back to finishing up his drink but then again, orders another one. He saw some women sitting behind him giving him a sulty look and immediately, he stood up and walked over to them. Meanwhile, Neal approached the beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala that Dean is driving. He reached in the back pocket, pulled out the keys and then lifted up the car key in the light and then looked at it. "This must be his," he said to himself. He looked over at the entrance of the club and flashed a mischievious grin, before he walked over, opened the door of the car, and then climbed right in, closing the door behind him. Unknownest to Dean who is distracted by a pair of beauties, his main beauty's engine roared to life, heading towards Neal's apartment.


	2. The Ghost in the Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Dean freaks out about the Impala going missing and Sam tries to help him locate her, Neal has some problems of his own.

Dean stood from his table that he was sharing with the two women and gave them both flirty winks. "You bet," he said to one when she asked if he'd be back, "I'll be here tomorrow and maybe we can take our conversation to the hotel." The woman turned to her friend and giggled. The other then perked up. "You too," he added as he points towards her. She smiled back, liking the idea. Before Dean was to ask for their numbers as well, Sam came strolling in and combed through the crowd, trying to find his brother. He spots him near the left hand side and sighed in relief. Then, he approached him as Dean was about to turn around. "Dean," he spoke up. Dean jumped as soon as he spun around to face his brother.  
"Dude, seriously?"

"Sorry. Anyway, there's something that I need to tell you."

"Well hold on to it just a bit." He turned to the women. "Ladies, meet my younger brother Sam. Sammy, this is Jasmine," he points to the blond, "and her sister Arabella. They're about the same age as you and me." He gently slaps him on the chest.  
"Dean."  
"Oh, and get this Sam, Arabella here didn't finish college as well. She wanted to become a...what is it again?"  
"Actress," Arabella answered. "Quite good at it."  
"Actress! That's right. You know, I also work as a talent agent," he answered, pulling off another way of charming the ladies like he'd do in the past, "I could get you into a movie."  
"I'd love to be in a romance movie. With him," Arabella looked at Sam first and gave him a seductive glare and then turned to Dean, "with you and my sister."  
"Sam, maybe a few minutes? I think I want to stay. Then, we can talk outside."  
'DEAN YOUR CAR IS MISSING," Sam snapped. And then it hit Dean like a ton of bricks. It was like as if you take the deaths of Jo, Ellen, John, Adam (well it was sad), and their mother all rolled into one. Or even worse, as if someone just shot HIM through the heart. His baby..missing. He started to panic. "Whoa, whoa, Dean, sit down," he now said to Dean, gently pushing him down onto the seat. Dean gasped, with one hand on his chest and began to rock back and forth trying to calm himself down.  
"Sam, tell me you're lying. Tell me RIGHT now that you're lying."  
"I'm not, Dean. She's gone."  
"WHO THE HELL took her?" he shouts. He stood up and then stormed out of the bar, ignoring the women this time around. Not when his number one lady of his life is gone. And that was when he noticed-she was gone. "Sonofabitch!" he shouts. "Damn it!" Sam ran out towards him.  
"Do you have any clue as to who took her?" Sam asked.  
"Neal. That bastard pulled a damn Bela on me and stole my baby. He stole her, Sam."

"Wait, who's Neal?"

"A guy I met here at the bar," Dean explained. "I tell you Sam, it was like looking at me though you also add in Bela in there as well. He's got the charm, the wit, and also the sneakiness that she had. We flirted and..." he paused. "Wait, that's how he got my keys."

"Back track here. You actually flirted? With a guy?"

"Yeah, with a guy. Who so happened to have stolen my damn keys and took my car. He must have gotten the keys from my pocket when he had his hand on my leg. I knew I should've looked down." He ran his fingers through his short hair. "We need to get her back."

"Don't worry, we'll find the car. I'll help you look for her. Okay?"

"Okay. Where's the car you jacked?"  
"Down the street. It's the red Volvo." Dean stormed off towards the car while Sam ran up behind him. "Wait, Dean, where are you going?"  
"Finding that son of a bitch and make him pay for stealing her, that's where I'm going. Coming? Or do you want to stay?"  
"Look, I said that I'll help you find her but couldn't it wait later on? You're overreacting here."  
"Overreacting? Sam, do you remember what's in the trunk?" Dean asked. After thinking about it and realized what he meant, Sam opened the passenger side door, while Dean did the same for the driver side, got in, and closed the door. "Okay, let's start searching. It's a huge city but we need to start somewhere. Any ideas? I'm open ears.

" "Okay, how about we look up his name on the laptop? If that fails, the next best is Bobby. He'd know what to do."

"Alright, that's a start, let's do it. Don't worry, Baby, I'm coming." Then, he started up the car with pressing the two wires at the bottom and drove on to the hotel.

He did it. He actually did it. He had successfully took the man's car and parked it alongside the road. Neal emerged from the Impala with a satisfied grin on his face. He took the keys out of the ignition after turning off the engine and stuffed it in his pocket. He can't wait to tell Mozzie that he's got the big one. He didn't think what Peter would say especially after the heist he did and this. In fact, it could totally damage his chance to be free. And, he has to try to find the clues regarding the music box also. However, it was just something he had to let it happen, even if he had to flirt with Dean just to do it. If you asked Neal would he do it again? He'd tell you, yes. Yes, he would. Especially the flirting part, it wasn't really that bad and it came in handy. In fact, that was his first time to actually flirt with a man. Maybe he might do it again, if he has to. He entered June's house finding it quiet. She must be away and the maid she has probably left for the day. He headed up to his apartment and unlocked his door with his own key, and entered the apartment. The portrait that he stole was still there, nestled against the fireplace with the beautiful girl staring at her. She looked 16 the most with long red hair and wearing a pink dress with white lace, dating back to 1716 or so. He closed the door, took off his jacket and his fedora and then walked over to study it before he went to his bedroom, where he took off his shirt, leaving behind just his tank top. Then, he got out his paints and then set up the canvas. His plan? Recreate it and put the recreated one in the museum while the actual one remains with him. That way, no one would know. Nor Peter for that matter. Or, he could put the blame on Kellar and say he was behind it. (He'd have Mozzie sneak into Kellar's home and put it there). That'd be clever. He hoped it works. Oh, the look on his face would be marvelous! But, he has work to do and so he began working by sketching out the painting itself. As he turned away from it and towards the canvas, a flicker of the woman from the painting is shown right behind him. When he heard the static sounds, he turned to look over his shoulder. But she was gone. Shrugging his shoulders, he went back to painting.


	3. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers heads to the hotel where they use the laptop to help find where Neal could be. While Dean does that, Sam looks up more about the painting and finds out more about Maggie.

The boys had booked themselves a room at the Chelsea Savoy Hotel, in the neighborhood Chelsea. A nice swank hotel, it was also cheap. But not too cheap for them since of the endless money that they had gotten from either credit card frauds or anything throughout their travels. And of course money from the bank, whatever money it was. And it was there that the boys' laptops were safely kept in. Thank goodness that they didn't leave them in the Impala since they would have been totally screwed into trying to find a way to get to Neal. And, to find out more about the painting. All they knew about it was that it was cursed and it was of an ancestor of the guy who owns it. He didn't know about it being cursed but had called the cops to report it missing. His wife, however, had seen the ghost and was afraid. But, she didn't wish for it to be stolen either. It was part of history and now its in the hands of one of the greatest con artists ever. And Dean thought Bela was good at it. He was wrong. "Okay, here's what we'll do," Sam suggested as soon as they had entered the hotel and made their way to their laptops. "You look up Neal on yours, and I look up research about Maggie. See if I can find anything more about her that we can use. Knowing the painting, soon or a later, he'll see the ghost."  
"Good," Dean snapped as he opened his laptop. "You know what, I hope he does. I hope he'll see her right there and get scared. I hope he'll be so scared he'd run out of the house or apartment or whatever the hell he calls home and finds us. And if he does, I'll take my fist into that pretty little face of his."  
"Dean, you wouldn't do that."  
"Oh, yeah? Try me. He stole not only her but Dad's journal, which if I may recall is in the trunk. Same with our things that we'd need to gank Maggie. But oh, wait, we can't because he has the car!" Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair once again and then sat back. "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be, Dean. You're right. Besides, she was more than just a car to you. And to me. She was our second home after the fire. Don't worry, we'll find her. Does he have anything that you can use to track him with?" And then it hit Dean. The anklet. He remembered the anklet. Admist the flirting and the way he was looking at Neal (or did he really?), he did notice the anklet and nodded his head as he went to it. "So, that means a yes?"  
"Less talk, more researching, let's go. We got not only a con artist/car thief to find but a ghost to gank."  
Sam softly laughed. His brother is now back. Gone was the desperate and panicked Dean, replaced by the Dean he loved and looked up to. The big brother slash hunter. Sam went to look up about Maggie on his laptop and managed to find some information that can help. "How's the research going, Dean?" he asked as he scanned his eyes on what he himself found in the process.  
"Boom," Dean said with a celebrating fist pump. "Found him."

"Wait, you actually found Neal?" Sam asked as he got up from the chair and walked over to him then stood over his shoulder. Dean nodded. Before them was the exact pinpoint of his location. "How did you do it?"

"I remembered exactly what he told me about his anklet. Sam, its a GPS Location Device. I was going to aim for that but I had no clue where to start. Then the next thing that he told me was he's working for the FBI. So, I went to the website of the FBI, typed in his name, and this," he pulls up the file about Neal, "is what pulled up. See that there?" he points to the address. "That house belongs to a June Ellington. Neal's renting an apartment there. Now that we found Neal, did you find anything about Maggie?"  
"I sure as hell did. Margaret Louise Jason," he now said as he walked over and picked up his laptop then turned it around so Dean can read it. He approached Dean and handed him the laptop. Dean retrieved it and placed it down next to his. "I managed to get information about her and why she is stuck in that painting. It says here that a witch cursed her portrait after she had hit on the witch's husband. So, after she died from childbirth after giving birth to her only child Christopher, her soul went to the portrait, of which became her own personal hell. Even watching her family grow and can't be reunited with her true love who actually had loved her and wanted to be with her since he was the one who started the affair. It turned out that the witch wasn't exactly entirely faithful to him in the beginning with. It turned out that their affair was to get back at the witch. But it backfired, badly. And so she's trapped in that portrait, killing people. However, she doesn't target the blood family. Only those outside the family that gets in her way. So, since Neal stole her portrait, she's pretty pissed off."

"So, the rumor about a witch trapping her sister's soul into the painting since her body is cremated is all a lie."

"Pretty much. Her body was buried, not cremated. I think its of an urban legend being passed on by family members so that no one outside the family would find her body and desecrate the tombs."

"Okay, but I'm stuck on something. If she was there, why no one in the family was her main target?"

"I was thinking the same thing until I read this. I mean sure, the wife did, because she was married in the family, but she was spared because she loved her husband, something Maggie craved." Dean shut his laptop shut and walked over to the door, while Sam closes his and did the same. Then, as he looked over his shoulder at his brother, he had a look of determination. Not that he really felt like it since he's still ticked, but he'll wait until AFTER he saves the guy's life, to do the yelling. After all, this is what they do.

"Alright, let's go and save that pain in the ass' ass before he gets himself killed."


	4. Saving Neal, hunting the ghost. The Dean Winchester way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers, with enough information that they need, head out to Neal's home, where they put their plan into action-while Sam distracts Maggie, Dean and Neal heads to the cemetery to destroy her bones. They succeeds, and the ghost is killed. Dean, still angry, tells Neal that they need to talk...alone. Sam, realizing that his brother is STILL ticked, leaves to head back to the hotel, with Dean telling him to take the Impala with him.

Poor Neal isn't doing any better than he was even before he brought the painting home. Just as he was about to start to paint the painting onto his canvas (he has the outline all done and ready to go for the paint), not only was his paintbrush fly out of his hand, but the paint as well, splashing onto the floor like a painting done by a five year old. He looked around to see who did it but nothing. But, as he went to pick up the brush, he felt someone pushing him by force towards the bookshelf and knock his head against it, causing some of the books fall down to the floor like rain. And then, she appeared. She was dressed in the same gown as in the painting but there were dirt covering basically all of the gown and part of her face and all of her arms. So, think of Carrie from the movie "Carrie" but replace her hair with red and blood with dirt not to mention an 18th century gown, and you got her. She had her head tilted downward, her angry colorless eyes looking up at Neal. She moved very quick for a person like lightning and appeared in front of her latest (and frightened) victim. "Please," he begged her, "don't hurt me." She raised one skinny arm and clutched onto his neck, giving it a tight squeeze. He gasped, trying to pull her hand away but no use. She picked him up with force and raised him halfway up into the air, her eyes glaring at Neal. "Let me go," he gasped. She smirked and then lowered him down gently as if she was going to let him go. But, she had another idea. She released her grip on him and then walked over to the fireplace, picked up one of the chairs and threw it at him. He dodged it in the nick of time but it slammed against the bookplace instead. Luckily, it was still in tact, but more of the books fell to the floor. Neal eyed the attic. Yes! He could climb up to there! So, he sprung to his feet and ran towards it, but she caught sight and then flickered out and flickered in front of him, stopping him by pressing her hand against his chest once he had ran up to him. He eyed the door. She flung her arm at the door, having it close shut. The doors at the terrace were closed also, after he eyed that. He was trapped. The con artist had now become the victim. And yet all he could think of was two things-why didn't he stay at the bar and have talked to Dean? And, why didn't he listen to Mozzie? Mozzie told him about the painting and also the plan to frame Kellar for it. Why didn't he just find another way to do just that?

 

Dean and Sam arrived at the house. There, on the side of its road, was Baby. She was there. Dean sighed a big sigh of relief. As soon as he parked the car behind her and turned off the engine, he got out of the car and ran towards her then gave her the biggest hug you can ever do. "I'm so sorry, Baby. Not gonna leave you," he said, his lips just inches away from the hood. He pulled away and checked to see if Neal had stolen anything. The only thing missing was the keys. So, he must've brought them inside. He tried the doors. All four were thankfully open. "Sam," he called out to Sam, "check the trunk!" Sam nodded and then met up with him at the Impala. He opened the trunk and then the area for the weapons. Everything was there-from their dad's journal to even Ruby's knife. Dean walked to the trunk as well and got out two items-matches and a gun, while Sam got out the gasoline and set it down at her right back wheel. Dean shut it close and hands him the rifle. Sam looked on with a quizzible look on his face.

"Whoa wait, why do I have the gun and you don't have one?"

"Because, I'm going to burn her bones. I need you to distract her so I can get Neal out of there and have him come with me to the cemetery. That way, I'll keep an eye on him."

"Alright. Is this also a way to find the opportunity to kick his ass?"

"Maybe, however, now's not the time. We need to save him first or there's no ass to be kicked. We got a job to do." Both brothers walked inside.

 

Maggie was now standing in front of him, her hand still on his chest. She pulled her hand away and then flicked her wrist. He was pushed back about six inches away from her. Then, came the sound of Dean's gruff voice. "Neal!" Neal shouts back Dean's name and that she has him trapped. "Okay, hold on!" Maggie looked up to hear pounding and then the sound of a foot hitting against the door. After a few more kicking sounds, the door burst wide open by Sam. "Thanks, Sammy." Sam rose the gun up at Maggie who snarled at him and lunged at him. He began firing off the shots. One bullet struck her and she disappeared in a cloud of ashes. However, she reappeared at the right. Sam turned to her, the gun facing towards her once again and fired. He got her there as well. She appeared at the left hand side, standing next to the painting. It was like she was toying with him, but he was winning. "Get him out of here!" Sam shouted. Dean rushed up to a very shocked and scared Neal and pulled him up by his arm then ran with him out of the apartment and down the steps towards the front door which was swung open by Sam and then rushed out to the Impala.

"What was that?" Neal asked as they reached the car. Dean quickly checked to see if there was another container of gasoline, and there was. Once he checked quickly and then closed the trunk, he open his side door and slides right in.

"Get in," Dean said. "I'll explain to you in the car." Neal got in and closed the door behind him. "Keys."

"Oh, right." He dugs into his pocket and hands him the keys. Dean placed the keys into the ignition and then turned on the engine, hearing the familiar rumble. It brought a smile to his face.

"Still purring, huh, Baby?" he asked. He shifts some gears and then turned the car in a loop position and then started to go down the road and towards the cemetery. 

 

Maggie was buried in Trinity Church graveyard right behind the church that she knew when she was a child. It was a dirty brown colored gravestone with her name, last name, birth and death and one of her favorite quotes from Shakespeare at the bottom of the gravestone. But overgrown weeds covered most of it and some flowers that was placed down by some of her descendents. Dean, once stopping the car and turned off the engine, said not a word throughout the trip to the church or even as he got out. He walked to the trunk, opened it, and then got out two shovels from the trunk. He closed it with one big thud and then carried the shovels back out to the church. He tosses Neal one. "Wait, what is this used for?" Neal asked. Dean ignored him and began to dig. Neal watched as he did so, his back muscles reflexed underneath his jacket, the bowled legs spread out a little bit wide, and his head was bowed. He watched as Dean began to dig further more. Neal then jumped in. They continued until both shovels had hit against the wooden coffin. "Finally," Dean answered and tossed his shovel over the hole. Neal did the same. Both brushed off the extra dirt from the coffin. Dean reached up and grabbed the shovel then with the back of it, he slammed it over the surface of the lid until he managed to get to her bones. She was still wearing her dress which was a flowy black dress, the arms folded at her chest.

Dean smirked. "Why, hello there, Maggie." He tossed the shovel out of the hole again and then peeled away the extra pieces of the coffin. Once everything was freed from it and he could see just her bones, he climbed out of the gravestone, Neal followed. Then, Dean walked over to the car, got out the gasoline from the trunk, and then carried it to the grave. He opened it and poured the gasoline over the body, starting with the head straight down to the last part of her dress. Neal watched everything and looked up at Dean but didn't say anything. In fact, he found this rather unique. Never he had thought he'd see such a thing. Like ghosts, for example. And now, this. Remarkable. After he had basically had every inch of the bones covered, he set the gasoline container down onto the grass next to the gravestone. "Okay that should cover it." Once he screws on the lid, he lights a match and tosses it in the grave. Together, the pair watches as the flames began to form. The moment they had arrived back at the apartment, the gasoline container that Sam had placed out, was gone.

Sam walked out of the house next, carrying the gasoline container and had the painting tucked underneath his right arm. He set it down at the tire near the trunk and then opened the trunk to put the gasoline container inside, right next to the shovels that Dean had put in after he covered up the grave once he had put the flames out after the whole body was torched, and of course the other gasoline container. Sam closed the trunk while Neal and Dean exited the car. He walked back inside the house since he forgot something and a few minutes later, he emerged with his gun. He walked over to the trunk, opened it, tossed the gun inside and then closed the trunk. "Did you get her?"

"We got her. Her bones are being burned at this moment."

"That's good."

Dean now turned to Neal. "Listen, you and I need to talk." His voice was stern. Neal nods his head. Dean, after looking at his brother now, could tell that he felt a bit uncomfortable or that he shouldn't be there. So, he hands him the keys. "Sammy, take the Impala with you when you return to the hotel after dropping off the painting. I need to talk to Neal." 

"Okay, call me when you want me to pick you up."

"I will," Dean replied. Sam picked up the painting, opened the back seat, and slid it in. Then, he closed the door and then walked over to get into the driver's seat. He drove off towards the hotel, while Dean and Neal walked inside the house.


	5. More than a Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Neal engage in a heating argument which in the end turns to passion. The last chapter.

Neal entered the apartment first, following by an angry Dean who slammed the door behind him as soon as he stepped inside. Neal, who had observed him doing so, folded his arms across his chest. "You said you wanted to talk, so talk. Answer this for me though-why are you so fucking pissed off at me all of a sudden?"

"Why? Let me tell you why. One, you stole my keys. You stole my car. You made me panic when really everything is in the car-guns, other parts of weapons, our fake I.D.'s, everything. The Impala means so much to me, my brother, and even my friends who we lost and still have today. She was and still is our second home. And when you took it, you took away our history." Dean lent out one big shove, having Neal staggered backwards.   
Neal smirked. "Are you done yet? Has the fire gone from your body? Or are you gonna keep on going?"   
"You think this is a game, don't you? And, no, I'm not done with you fucking yet. No one touches her, do you understand? No one. Not even a cunning sonovabitch like yourself."   
  
Neal approached him but when he did so, Dean (who was still pretty much rightfully ticked off), responded back by shoving him. This time, Neal fell onto his back, his blue eyes looking up at Dean. When Dean leaned down and ready to grab him once more, at that moment, Neal couldn't take it anymore. Seeing him be all angry had really sealed the deal. There were plenty other moments and yet now, it really did. So, he grabbed Dean by his jacket and pulled him down to his body. Before Dean could say something, he felt Neal's lips against his own. He was being kissed. This no good but oh so charming con artist was _kissing_ him! And yet, in the midst of it all as if he decided maybe its not really good to fight it, he was kissing him back. It was slow and soft at first before it went to one of passion. He released his hands from pinning him but rest them on his hips instead and trailed his hands up to Neal's chest, while Neal clutched the back of Dean's head with his hand, pulling him close. He broke off the kiss, his voice filled with desire as his blue eyes laid on the entrance to his room right behind the hunter.

"My bedroom's behind you."

Dean looked over to the room and then stood to his feet. Neal stood as well and then walked over to the room, with Dean trailing from behind. Once inside the sophisticated room with one big bed in the middle and a window at the right, Dean shot forward once again, reclaiming those good looking lips with his own. Neal kissed him back just as passionately, working on Dean's shirt by taking off his jacket first and then tossed it aside. Dean went to work on Neal too, by undoing his belt, pulled it off of him and then unbuttoned the pants first before unzipping it. Next, came Neal's tank top being lifted up by Dean and then tossed away, revealing his muscular chest. Dean licked his lips at the sight of it for a moment before he went back to continue undressing. The men took each turn-Dean's shirt was taken off by Neal, and then Neal's pants was taken off by Neal himself, pushing it aside before taking off his boxers and Dean did the same. Last, came off their shoes and socks (although they both did that themselves). Once now naked, Dean climbed onto the bed first and then Neal climbed onto first the bed and then on Dean himself. He kissed his lips first following by the neck, the collarbone, and then the breasts. His tongue traced the anti demon possession tattoo while all this time, he rubbed the sides of Dean's chest with his hands, almost massaging him, while Dean wrapped his arms around his neck and rose his legs. He was about to get off of him when Dean shook his head. "No," he grunted. "Take me right now or so help me God, I'll get out of this bed." Neal softly laughed. He loved it when he had done that type of threat. He kissed him on the lips as if telling him that his wish is granted and then began with the thrusts. He matched his thrusts with the kisses he was giving Dean since it was filled with passion, so was the thrusts. He didn't care, and neither did Dean, for that matter Neal broke off the kiss just to hear Dean moan loudly while kissing at his chest rapidly and had his hands set on Dean's hips. He felt Dean rock beneath him and moaned in pleasure as well. Then, he kissed his lips once more before throwing his head back (Dean did the same) and cried out Dean's name as the thrusts went a bit faster before he climaxed. But, they weren't finished yet. Dean pulled away from him and rolled from underneath him, leaving Neal in a kneeling position. As Dean started kissing at the back of the neck, Dean went in a kneeling position too, but spread out his legs so that he can be able to thrust into him. As soon as Dean has his arms wrapped around his con artist's waist; Neal in the meantime, reached behind Dean and rest his hands on his hips, pulling him closer. He did so and then began the thrusts even from there. Neal threw his head back against Dean's shoulder and felt Dean's lips touch his. They kissed briefly before they rest their heads against each other, allowing their moans fill the room up together. He kept on going until he felt a shudder and then released himself inside of him. Already, from when he did so, Neal released his serum onto the bed as well. But, they didn't care. The climax came and after one final thrust, both cried out in passion together. Dean broke apart from him and both had their chests rise up and down, completely panting and totally drawn out from everything. But, it was worth it. Neal was the first to collapse head first onto the pillow, with Dean falling down onto his side and then wrapped his arm around his lover's back, while Neal turned his head to look into Dean's eyes. He smiled at Dean, raised one hand, and gently caressed his cheek.

"So," Neal said with a wink, "was that your way of saying sorry?"

"I guess so." He sat up just to take off the condom, with Neal doing the same and then took both of their used condoms only to climb off of the bed and threw them into the waste basket in Neal's kitchen, and then returned to the bed where they resumed back to their lying down positions as they were before. Only this time, Neal wrapped one arm around Dean's waist while Dean did the same.

"Well," Neal said, "I accept. That was incredible, by the way. And you know, its our first time to have sex with the same sex. The both of us."

"Does that mean we're now bi?"

Neal shrugged. "Looks like it. But, just for appearances, going to keep it a secret. Last thing I'd need is my friends wondering what the hell is going on with me."

"I need to do the same, otherwise, Sam would have a reason to give me a hard time." Both laughed. "What would you like to do now? I have all day. I can wait to call up Sammy to pick me up."

"How about," he suggests as he moved closer to Dean until they were an inch away from each other and their arms now touching, "we go to sleep? Perhaps later on, we can go round two before you leave."

"Sounds like a good idea," Dean answered back. With one final kiss, both fell asleep in each other's arms.

 

                                                                                                                    THE END.


End file.
